Murim Login - Chapter 449

Crossing the unnaturally intensified currents of Cheonryeong Falls and entering the domain of Dongting Stronghold, Mu Song’s heart began to beat faster.

*‘Uncle Huang, I’ve come to see you.’*

The leader of Dongting Stronghold, *Huang Zhong*, also known as *The Blade of the Yangtze*, was more than a mentor to Mu Song—perhaps even more than family.

Mu Song’s actual master, the Sea King, was not a warm or affectionate figure, and their relationship was dry and distant, like coarse sand.

During his youth, it was Huang Zhong’s kind advice and consideration that allowed Mu Song to endure the harsh training and relentless criticism.

*‘I believe in you, Uncle. I know you wouldn’t have done this.’*

Huang Zhong was the most prudent and thoughtful person in the Yangtze River Waterway League. There was no way he would take the reckless and heinous step of eliminating the leaders of the Maritime Guild and the Dongting Patriarch in such a manner.

This unwavering trust in his uncle was what had compelled Mu Song to come here personally.

However, no matter his trust, an ever-growing unease swelled within him.

*‘Why is it so quiet?’*

The Huang Zhong he knew was meticulous in all things. There was no way he would rely solely on Cheonryeong Falls for the stronghold’s defenses.

Dongting Stronghold was a natural fortress built on the Yangtze River. Any unauthorized intruders who managed to cross Cheonryeong Falls would be met with hundreds of arrows raining down from the cliffs above.

And yet…

*‘We’re already at the front. Why hasn’t there been any response?’*

Even after raising the Yangtze River Waterway League’s flag and sounding the drums, the surroundings remained eerily silent.

As he gazed at the fog-shrouded island, Mu Song’s chest tightened with apprehension.

*‘Something is wrong.’*

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, and the vague unease in his heart soon revealed itself as a harsh reality.

“Something has happened,” said a calm voice.

“What do you mean—?”

Turning towards the voice, Mu Song was silenced by the sight before him. The murmur of panic began to ripple through the people onboard.

“Th-that… what is that?”

“A corpse! It’s a corpse!”

Those present were seasoned martial artists, well-acquainted with death and carnage. But this time was different.

This was Dongting Stronghold.

With the Sea Serpent Guild wiped out and the Dongting Patriarch presumed dead, there were few, if any, who could have reached this place beyond Cheonryeong Falls.

And yet, here was a corpse.

While the crew murmured in shock, Mu Song forced himself to find his voice.

“Retrieve it immediately. We need to confirm who it is.”

“Yes, sir!”

Before the Water Dragon Stronghold crew could act, a figure stepped forward.

“Stand back.”

It was *Jeok Cheon-Gang*, the Fire King. His voice was calm but carried a weight that silenced all else as he extended his hand.

A surge of powerful energy lashed out, pulling the submerged body from the water and onto the deck.

Thud.

The corpse landed with a heavy sound. Its upper body was half-destroyed, and its swollen face was grotesque. Mu Song’s eyes widened in recognition.

“This… this is…”

“Do you recognize him?” Jin Taekyung asked as he approached.

Mu Song, his face blank with shock, nodded.

“*Sojo-gwi* (Little Tidal Ghost), Wang Pil. He was Uncle Huang’s right hand and the Deputy Leader of Dongting Stronghold.”

Wang Pil was a well-known name in Hubei’s martial world, as both the Deputy Leader of Dongting and one of the transcendent masters of the Yangtze River Waterway League.

Hearing the nickname of the deceased, Jin Taekyung’s expression hardened as he focused on Mu Song.

“The Deputy Leader? Are you certain?”

“There’s no mistake. The body is badly mutilated, but the face is still recognizable.”

“…Damn it.”

Jin Taekyung’s face stiffened, and he was not alone. The gravity of the situation dawned on everyone onboard.

Even the death of a mere soldier would have been ominous. But the murder of Dongting Stronghold’s Deputy Leader—one of Hubei’s most renowned figures—was an undeniable signal.

*‘Something terrible has happened in Dongting Stronghold.’*

The first to act on this grim realization was Jin Taekyung.

With a flash, he dashed across the deck to the stern of the warship and extended his arms with all his might.

*Flame God Palm!*

Boom! Boom!

The blazing heat evaporated the surrounding moisture and propelled the warship forward with immense force.

Shaken out of their stupor, the others quickly followed his lead.

“Crew! Return to your positions and grab the oars! This is urgent!”

“Inform the other ships immediately! Send the signal!”

Boom, boom, boom.

The frantic shouts and drumbeats shattered the eerie silence.

As chaos erupted around him, Mu Song looked up, his heartbeat pounding louder than the drums.

And then—

They saw it.

Beyond the dissipating mist at the bow of the warship lay a shattered dock and an expanse of water littered with corpses.

—

“Holy… shit…”

The curse slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. No one scolded me or even glanced my way.

Either they had no energy to care, or I had simply voiced what they were all thinking.

The scene before us was beyond horrifying.

“A scene straight out of hell.”

“How… how could this happen?”

Jeok Cheon-Gang murmured in a voice heavy with sorrow, while Cheongpung, usually so cheerful, trembled as his eyes darted around the carnage.

Wherever he looked, there were ruins of homes and countless bodies strewn across the island.

The bodies we had seen at the dock were just a small fraction of the total.

“L-Leader… over there…”

“I see it.”

I ignored Hyeok Mu-jin’s quivering voice as he called out to me.

I didn’t need him to point. I had already seen it, and my teeth clenched unconsciously.

*‘Children… and unarmed villagers.’*

Dongting Stronghold wasn’t just home to its soldiers.

They had brought their families to this fortress for safety, forming a small community.

And now…

*‘They’re all dead.’*

Children who had just been weaned, frail elderly, women, and hundreds of pirates who would have risked their lives to protect them—all of them met the same fate without exception.

After spending half a day scouring the island, both our group and the martial artists from the Wudang Sect, the Zhuge Clan, and Mu Song’s Water Dragon Stronghold uncovered the devastating truth: no one had survived.

Among the countless dead, one name stood out.

“Uncle Huang!”

Mu Song’s anguished roar echoed far into the distance, causing Gong Gi-bang to murmur with a heavy voice, “So he’s finally found him.”

People say that all lives are equal, but that’s not true.

The weight of death changes depending on who the deceased was and the relationship you had with them.

To Mu Song, *Huang Zhong*, *The Blade of the Yangtze*, was such a person.

—

Urgently, a Zhuge Clan martial artist approached, reporting breathlessly, “The family head has asked for you to come immediately.”

Jin Wi-gyeong nodded. “This is about Huang Zhong, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir. The body of Huang Zhong has just been discovered, but…”

“Let’s go. We’ll hear the rest directly from the clan leader.”

We silently followed, not out of mere respect for the dead but because Huang Zhong’s position made him an incredibly significant figure.

The grim expression on Jeok Cheon-Gang’s face wasn’t one of sorrow—it was something else entirely.

—

A quiet transmission from Jeok Cheon-Gang reached my ears, pulling me from my thoughts.

– *What do you think about all this?*

I slowed my steps, replying in kind.

– *I think the same as you, Elder.*

– *And how do you know what I’m thinking?*

– *Because your thoughts match mine.*

– *You’re asking to be set on fire.*

– *I’d rather avoid that, Elder. I’ve been holding back my own needs because of this mess, and I suggest you do the same while I explain.*

I began laying out the conclusions I had reached over the last half day.

– *Dongting Stronghold is a natural fortress accessible only by crossing Cheonryeong Falls. For anyone to attack this place, defeating Huang Zhong—a transcendent martial artist—and his elite crew would be unthinkable without overwhelming force.*

Jeok Cheon-Gang interjected.

– *Even the weakest dog has an advantage on its own turf. To topple seasoned fighters like those of Dongting Stronghold, you’d need at least double their manpower.*

He was right. It was only after arriving here that I fully understood the scale of this stronghold.

Dongting Stronghold wasn’t a typical pirate base. Its fleet numbered over fifty ships, and its living quarters resembled a bustling town rather than a camp. It rivaled a martial sect in size, strength, and influence.

And yet, someone had completely obliterated it.

– *There are only a few groups capable of mustering such power in Hubei,* Jeok Cheon-Gang said. *And one of them is already out of the picture.*

– *The Wudang Sect, Zhuge Clan, local authorities, and the Maritime Guild,* I added. *Correct?*

– *Exactly. But the Maritime Guild lacks martial masters, and the Wudang Sect and Zhuge Clan have no reason to attack Dongting Stronghold. The local authorities? Highly unlikely.*

– *Agreed. The martial world and the government maintain a delicate non-aggression pact. Even if the Emperor issued a decree to suppress Dongting Stronghold, it wouldn’t have been done this covertly.*

The martial world is like a massive tree deeply rooted in the forest of the land.

Its branches have grown too tall to be pruned easily, and any attempt to fell it risks breaking the axe in the process. This precarious balance is what has allowed the martial world to persist despite changes in imperial leadership.

Jeok Cheon-Gang let out a grim sigh.

– *The Yangtze River Waterway League is a major branch of this tree. Combining the forces of its member factions could rival some of the Nine Great Sects or Five Noble Families.*

And yet, one of its strongest branches had been completely destroyed by an unknown force.

– *Elder, do you believe the perpetrator is one of those four groups?*

– *It’s not impossible, but moving such a large force covertly across Cheonryeong Falls… that would be extraordinarily difficult.*

– *Or extraordinarily easy.*

I finally voiced the thought that had been lingering on my mind.

– *Dark Heaven.*

Jeok Cheon-Gang was silent for a moment before responding.

– *They wouldn’t need to transport hundreds or thousands of men over Cheonryeong Falls. If there’s a concealed array or teleportation formation nearby, it would explain everything.*

Dark Heaven had already demonstrated this capability in both Shaolin and Sichuan. If they used such methods here, it would also explain how they avoided drawing attention.

Jeok Cheon-Gang’s voice darkened.

– *So, you think it’s them too.*

– *The stench of it is unmistakable, Elder.*

– *But why target the Yangtze River Waterway League?*

– *That’s what we’re about to find out.*

As I finished, my eyes focused on the faces of those approaching us in the distance.

*This mystery is only beginning.*